Cracked
by sashwizzled
Summary: Rated T just to be sure. Wanting things that you just can't have can be detrimental to your health in more ways than one. VergilDante twincest.


In case it wasn't apparent in the summary, this is Vergil/Dante - twincest. If this offends you, press the back button now.

**Disclaimer: **Dante, Vergil and the Devil May Cry franchise belongs to the wonderful people (/boot-lick) of Capcom. this is a not-for-proft, just-for-fun work of fanfiction.

**Note:** The dialogue from DMC3 at the end may be slightly mistaken in wording - the transcription was done very quickly, and I'm sorry for that.

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**Cracked  
**

_Laughter. When two people share it, it supposedly brings them closer together. Laughter is the best medicine, they say, whether it be for physical ills, emotional ills, or the ills straining a relationship at the seams._

"You know, Vergil," Dante had an arm around Vergil's shoulder, and Vergil thought his brother was going to either keel over, sprain something or both, "You're alright. Yeah, you can't pull chicks and you can't dance and you can't kiss worth a damn…"

_Like you'd know, brother._ Something twinged and he bit down on it savagely. He didn't realise that his teeth had gone through his lip until the taste of blood filled his mouth and the pain became a balm.

"But _damn_, damn you can make me laugh. I think I'm gonna die…"

Vergil didn't even know what he'd done to incur Dante's hysterical mirth, which was a shame as for once in his life he would quite like to be able to do this again.

Dante burst into a fresh peal of laughter – it sounded like some kind of cackling witch, but was as infectious as any virus, and Vergil, still not knowing what they were laughing at or why, joined in. Soon, neither had any idea which brother was holding which up, and even Vergil's lip didn't really bother him anymore.

_Insanity. Defined as a persistent derangement where one is no longer in control of one's actions. The destruction of a mind, or at the very least its ability to discern reality from pure fantasy._

How long, now? Weeks, months, it didn't matter to Vergil. Time moved too slowly to his mind, which seemed to be cracked and broken anyway. Hmph, that made it sound like the mind was some form of bone, smashed in combat by the lick of a sword and healed with medicine and a cast.

If only.

When you want something as desperately as Vergil did, time drags its heels like an unruly child.

The opportunity finally came in winter, one so cold that the newspapers screamed about the fast flowing river fifty miles or so away freezing over, and Dante had decided on a whim that he would go to it. Vergil allowed himself to be amiably dragged along even as what seemed to be two warring factions within argued over the matter - _what if I'm caught?_

_What if I'm not?_

At the river – slab of ice, now – Dante wandered around on the surface, long hair (it apparently made him look like some rock star, but Vergil didn't see it) twisting around his head in whisps, looking perfectly at home in naught but that tatty leather jacket and a pair of pants.

Standing beside him, caught up in the peace and the mystical quality of the air, Virgil relaxed finally, his senses tingling, but not with cold.

"Hey, Vergil—"

Just his voice. That had been enough. Vergil whipped around, suddenly in an almost frenzy of crazed… lust? He didn't know anymore – and he kissed his brother, full on the mouth. And it tasted good.

_Madness. A permeating rage so bright and savage that it can threaten to destroy everything around us. Keeping it in is destructive to the self. Letting it out is destructive to all._

"You showed up." Vergil had, of course, expected his twin to come, cocky and arrogant as ever, and had prepared accordingly. The rain cooled his skull and the _inappropriate_ thoughts were no more. Now only the hatred remained, sour in his throat.

They bantered. This was good. Normal. Vergil could almost say he enjoyed it, this war of words, but he'd grown to prefer a war of physical might, a craft in which he knew he was superior to his twin.

"Whatever." Dante seemed to have tired of it. "At any rate, it's been a whole year since we last met. How about a kiss for your little brother?"

The word _another_ lay unspoken in the air like thick smoke. Vergil's chest constricted and his vision began to burn. _Concentrate on the rain._ He did. Cool. Calm.

"Or better yet, a kiss from this!"

Dante's gun flew up. Even better. Vergil concealed a grin. Dante wouldn't stand a chance, and with him gone... Well, he just had to think of the possibilities. They were endless, bright like embers.

"So, this is what they call a heart-warming family reunion, huh?"

"You got that right."

Something cracked, horribly familiarly. Virgil attacked.

_Laughter, insanity, madness; it drives us all to pieces..._


End file.
